


That Couple

by so_shhy



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: And More Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Steve Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-26
Updated: 2012-06-26
Packaged: 2017-11-08 14:38:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/444258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/so_shhy/pseuds/so_shhy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for this prompt on cc-feelsmeme:<br/>Clint and Phil are secretly that couple; you know, the one that's still ridiculously in love even after 10 years together, can finish each other's sentences, and generally drives all their single friends to homicide with how sweet and affectionate they are.</p><p>They're pretty good about hiding it at work. But off-duty? That's a whole other thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Couple

From Tony’s glittering penthouse to Steve’s own custom-designed floor, the gym, the shooting range and the cosy communal den, Stark Tower was a great place to live. It was huge and luxurious and the technology amazed Steve every day. All his friends were there, his team, the people he cared about in this strange new world, and if he wanted anything at all JARVIS was there to get it for him.

Yeah, it was a great place.

It was also full of couples.

***

The first person Steve met when he moved in was Pepper Potts, a woman who could run a multi-billion dollar company and make it look easy and who had reserves of patience and kindness that allowed her to draw out everything in Tony Stark worth loving. Plus she was the type of knock-out redhead you saw on magazine covers, with legs that could make a fellow go cross-eyed. Tony sure was a lucky guy, Steve thought, watching the way she looked at him, the way they touched. Lucky, lucky guy.

A few days later it was Bruce’s turn. Dr Betty Ross had practically run out of the elevator and thrown herself into his arms, the two of them clinging together as though they didn’t dare let go again. The way they comforted and cared for one another was truly heart-warming. Sometimes Steve imagined Peggy walking into the Tower like that, and he knew how it would feel. He was really happy for them. 

When Thor came rolling in, it was with his best girl surgically attached to him. Still in the honeymoon phase, Steve figured. They spent a whole lot of time gazing dreamily into each other’s eyes. It was cute. And maybe kissing that much in public was just fine these days.

Living with people who loved each other made for a good atmosphere. He should be glad about it. 

But then there was Clint. There was Clint and Coulson and that was taking things a step too far.

***

It was movie night, and Steve kind of wanted to cry.

The two agents had been curled lazily on the couch for the better part of two hours, arms around each other, sometimes watching the screen, sometimes sharing little private jokes in quiet murmurs. It wasn’t overt but it was somehow infinitely more distracting than Jane and Thor’s smooching or Tony’s sarcastic commentary. Steve had entirely lost the plot of the movie about halfway through and had spent the remaining hour reciting the Gettysburg Address in his head in an attempt to draw on the spirit of strength and endurance. The relief he felt when Coulson finally disentangled himself was so strong it was almost embarrassing. But he knew from experience that the ordeal wasn’t over yet.

Clint was making his best pleading eyes, like a puppy asking to be petted. ‘Come on Phil,’ he coaxed, ‘stay a while longer. We’re gonna teach Steve about teenage rebellion. We’ve got The Breakfast Club and everything.’

Coulson’s smile might as well have waved a placard to the rest of the world that read _I’m so in love and you’re so alone_. ‘I’ve got paperwork to do,’ he said, tangling his fingers in the blond spikes of Clint’s hair and leaning down to kiss him.

‘Gee, there’s a surprise.’

‘Not really, since it’s all property damage forms for you hooligans.’

Clint laughed. ‘Don’t pretend you don’t enjoy it. Will you still be up when I come to bed?’

‘You can wake me if I’m not.’

‘Mmm. OK. Love ya.’

‘Me too.’

‘Bye.’

‘Bye,’ Coulson said, stroking Clint’s hair again and showing no sign of going anywhere.

‘ _Goodbye_ , Phil,’ Natasha said sharply, rolling to her feet, taking him firmly by the elbow and marching him to the door.

Natasha could be a little scary but right then Steve really wanted to hug her. ‘Thank you,’ he whispered to her as she sat back down.

Natasha muttered something in Russian that he figured was not at all polite. ‘Don’t thank me. I’m the one who got them together. It’s been five years of torture and now I have to _live_ with them.’

***

There was nothing to complain about, that was the problem. With Betty and Bruce there were the tearful silences of people whose minor disagreements were amplified by tension and stress and an all-pervading terror of getting angry. With Thor and Jane… well, OK, Steve was pretty sure some of those things _really_ shouldn’t be done in public. And with Tony and Pepper there were tantrums (on his part) and tirades (on hers) which often resulted in explosions of one kind or another.

Clint and Coulson were just happy.

If Steve was honest, the guilt bothered him almost as much as having his own loneliness rubbed in his face on an hourly basis. It was terrible to think mean thoughts about his friends. He did his best, but it was so… so…

‘Fucking unbearable.’ Darcy said as she backed hurriedly out of the kitchen and smacked straight into his chest. ‘Don’t go in there. Seriously. Just don’t. Robin Hood and Maid Marianne are doing stuff that the human mind can’t withstand.’

‘What? I mean… they’re not…?’ Steve blushed. He’d come a long way in a few short months, but he still couldn’t quite bring himself to use some of the language that seemed so common in the future.

‘Fonduing?’ Darcy said, because Howard had thought that story was really funny and Tony unfortunately had a very good memory. ‘No, but it’s still, like, totally cheesy. They’re _singing_.’

‘Singing?’

‘Yeah. Clint was humming or whatever, and Coulson did the whole harmonising thing and Clint started honest to god singing. It’s like living in High School Musical 4: the assassination years. Take my advice, stay away.’

‘But I want my sandwich,’ Steve said pathetically. ‘I made it this morning and I’ve been really looking forward to the other half.’

Darcy gave him a sympathetic look. ‘That’s harsh. I bet it was a good sandwich too.’

It had been a good sandwich. So good that Steve refused to talk about it in the past tense. ‘I’m going in,’ he said firmly.

Darcy widened her eyes. ‘Ooookay, your funeral. Hey, get me my Doritos while you’re in there will you? It can be your daily act of heroism.’

Clint and Coulson were coming to the end of the song as Steve entered, a nice, schmaltzy, sentimental tune. Steve only caught the last couple of lines but that was enough to appreciate the duet. Clint had a rich voice and Coulson a lighter one, making a pleasant contrast. They sounded good together.

Of course they did.

‘ _You want to go where everybody knows your name_ ,’ Clint finished, absently glancing up from where he was pouring milk into a measuring jug. ‘Hey Cap.’

Steve nodded politely and made his way to the fridge, trying not to interrupt or get involved in any way. Behind him Clint hmmed in mild puzzlement. ‘Phil, why was I singing that? I don’t think I’ve seen Cheers in a decade.’

Coulson’s chuckle was warm and loving and about as irritating as fingernails on a blackboard. ‘It’s the lyrics. You’re still sulking about that article from yesterday.’

‘Huh? I’m not sulking,’ Clint objected. ‘I’m making muffins. I don’t even know what article…’ he paused thoughtfully. ‘Oh, yeah, right, _that_ article. That article sucked. _Hawk-man?_ Assholes.’

‘I’ll write them a strongly worded letter. I promise.’

‘Thanks babe.’

Coulson stood up from his chair and went over to the counter, wrapping his arms around Clint from behind. ‘You’re welcome. Is your subconscious feeling better? Can we have a theme song-free weekend now?’

‘Yeah, I’m good.’

Steve looked balefully at the backs of their heads. It was a perfect example of what Darcy called ‘that creepy mind-reading thing they do’, the thing where they were so utterly in tune that they almost knew each other’s thoughts. How nice for them, he told himself. His fingers clenched and he only just managed not to crush his sandwich.

By the time he’d found the Doritos Clint had turned back to his muffin mix and was humming a different song. For some reason it made Coulson laugh as he joined in with the words. _‘Saturday, what a day…’_

‘ _…groovin’ all week with you..._ ’

Darcy had been right, Steve realised. No sandwich was worth this much pain.

***

The Avengers' first mission to nearly go pear-shaped was a standoff against a bunch of things called Doombots, and it had Clint riled enough that he was snarking constantly from half-way through. Steve had never heard Coulson speak to him so sharply.

‘Barton, _stay off the comms._ ’ Then, as a very audible aside to whichever junior agent was working with him, ‘I swear, one of these days I’m going to sew his goddamn mouth shut.’

Trouble in paradise, Steve thought worriedly. OK, they got on his nerves a little, but it would be awful if they split. Maybe Coulson would even leave the team. Maybe _Clint_ would, which Steve had been working so hard to avoid. Clint had issues with his lack of superpowers and it was a struggle to make him believe he deserved his place as an Avenger.

Things only went downhill from there. They won the battle by the skin of their teeth, ending up with Tony’s armour a smoking mess, Steve’s ribs in the process of knitting painfully back together, and Clint only surviving due to a lucky catch by the Hulk. Steve limped away from the medics and back to the temporary base just in time to catch the tail end of a comprehensive dressing-down.

‘It was necessary,’ Clint was saying sullenly. ‘I took out the target.’

‘ _A_ target. A minor target.’ Coulson replied, coldly severe and implacable, ‘and you ended up hanging from a roof by your fingernails. I give you a lot of licence, Barton, but I expect you to obey direct orders to the letter.’

‘It was a calculated risk. Sir.’

‘You don’t make that call. And you _don’t_ get to play the hero. Your team relies on you to be in position. I rely on you. One more stupid ego-trip and I’m cutting your range time and benching you for a month.’

‘Come on, Coulson.’ 

‘A month. Talk back again and I’ll make it two. Is that understood?’

Clint’s face went blank. ‘Yes sir. Understood.’

‘I won’t remind you again.’

The air hummed with a silent challenge as their gazes locked. Clint was the first to look away. ‘Yes _sir_. Are we done?’ he asked, glaring at his feet.

‘We’re done.’

‘OK.’

In the beat of silence that followed Steve waited nervously for one or other of them to storm off. Then Clint sighed out a breath. His stiff bearing relaxed and every hint of resentment melted away, replaced by a small, tired smile. ‘Hey you,’ he said, stepping forwards into the welcoming circle of Coulson’s arms.

‘Hello love.’

Clint leaned gratefully against him. ‘God, Phil, I’m wiped. I could sleep for a week.’

‘I know. But not just yet. Dinner first, then we’ll debrief with the team, then bed. OK?’

‘Mmm, awesome.’ Clint nuzzled his face against Coulson’s neck. Breathing in his scent, Steve realised, gritting his teeth. ‘We should get Chinese. I want egg rolls. Can I have egg rolls?’

‘Of course you can have egg rolls,’ Coulson said fondly as they walked away together.

Maria Hill glared after them. ‘Shoot me, Cap. I mean it. Shoot me right now.’

***

‘Ready?’ Natasha said, poking her head around the door.

It was time for Steve’s monthly training review, starting with a sparring session observed by a senior agent. Natasha was one of the few people he felt comfortable going up against. He was exponentially stronger than her but somehow she managed never to occupy the same space as his fist, and the harder he hit the harder he ended up smashing headfirst into the mat. She was teaching him some tricks, though. One day it might actually wind up being a fair fight.

They traipsed up towards the helipad, only to meet Maria on her way down, striding purposefully with Darcy at her heels.

Steve had yet to work out what Darcy’s job was. He sometimes wondered if she had one, or if she just followed people around for her own amusement.

‘All set, Steve? I’ll be your observer for today.’

‘Weren’t we supposed to come to headquarters?’

‘I thought I’d better meet you here.’ Maria sighed. ‘There seems to be a plague of killer robots in the SHIELD gym.’

Steve was instantly alert. ‘Do we need to assemble?’

‘No, I don’t think so. They’re mostly playing table tennis,’ Maria said, which wasn’t even close to the strangest thing Steve had heard that week. ‘We can do it here instead. Stark’s got a gym in this place, doesn’t he?’

‘Yes ma’am, a big one.’

She grinned at him, as she always did when he called her ma’am. She’d told him a dozen times she wasn’t his superior but he couldn’t break the habit. ‘Perfect. Is it free?’

‘JARVIS, is there anyone in the gym?’

JARVIS’s cool, slightly inhuman voice floated out from the ceiling or wherever he kept himself. ‘The gym is occupied by Agent Coulson and Agent Barton, sir. There is ample space free for your purposes.’

The four of them looked at each other. Nobody wanted to be the one to say it first.

Finally Darcy shrugged. ‘OK, honestly? I’d prefer the killer robots.’

Steve felt the usual twinge of guilt. ‘We shouldn’t avoid them, you know. It’s not fair, they’re not doing anything wrong. They don’t even talk to each other while they’re working out.’

‘They don’t have to,’ Maria said darkly. ‘They just have to glance at each other and I want to strangle them both.’

‘I’ve come close,’ Natasha said. Steve was a little worried that she meant it.

Steve turned his face determinedly to the ceiling. ‘JARVIS, are they being… obvious? I mean, in the last half hour have they burst into song at any point?’ He caught Maria’s horrified look and nodded ruefully. Yes. They did that.

‘That information is unavailable,’ JARVIS said blandly. ‘I only monitor Agent Barton and Agent Coulson’s interactions when strictly necessary.’

‘Really?’ Steve frowned. ‘I thought Tony had you keeping an eye on pretty much everything.’

‘Mr Stark has given me special dispensation in this case.’ 

There was something suspiciously familiar in his tone. Natasha raised an amused eyebrow. ‘You can’t stand them, can you?’

The noise Darcy made might have been a cough but was more likely a snort of laughter.

Under the usual dryness, JARVIS’s clipped British voice held a hint of embarrassment. ‘As an artificial intelligence, Agent Romanoff, I naturally have no opinion on the matter.’ 

‘You’re lying.’ To his own surprise, Steve found himself smiling. Suddenly he felt less alone than he had since he woke up from the ice. ‘JARVIS, tell me something. Do you have a… a lady computer to step out with?’

JARVIS was silent.

‘Aw, JARVIS,’ Darcy said, grinning, ‘you’re totally lonely and pathetic. Dude, join the club.’

Maria shot her an admonitory look. ‘We all understand, JARVIS. Being single is hard enough without these fairytale couples springing up everywhere. Even the Director is happily married, would you believe?’

‘I am aware.’ 

‘And Clint and Coulson are the worst,’ Steve said fervently. ‘It’s almost more than a man can stand.’

‘Or a robot, I guess,’ Darcy added. ‘Hey, JARVIS, you don’t have to suffer in silence. We get together and bitch about it over coffee every Wednesday.'

'Indeed,' JARVIS said.

'So, you in?’

There was an expectant pause. Then JARVIS’s speakers made a noise that was almost certainly a sigh. ‘Yes, Miss Lewis,’ he said wearily, ‘I’m in.’

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Types of Coffee](https://archiveofourown.org/works/476152) by [Moonrose91](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonrose91/pseuds/Moonrose91)




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